


You Know You Better Watch Out

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-27
Updated: 2008-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:45:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick is young, and scheming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know You Better Watch Out

_Some guys, some guys are only about  
that thing, that thing, that thing_

 

Patrick hurtled down the stairs and flung open the front door before his mother could even get to it from the kitchen.

"Wow, you're faster than a speeding bullet," she said with a warm grin as she dried her hands on a towel. She smiled even more as the person who had been ringing the doorbell stepped in. "Oh, hi, Pete. Staying for dinner?"

"Oh, most definitely, Patricia," Pete said easily, completely ignoring the impatient face Patrick made. He was all politeness to Patrick's mother, helping her to set the table, calling Patrick's brother down from his room. Dinner went far too long for Patrick's taste. Second helpings! Laughing conversation! In desperation, he toed off one of his sneakers with a grim smile and carefully raised his foot to place in Pete's lap, right across from him at the small dining table.

"--and the lecturer kept yelling at the class, 'the turn of the century, you idiots! THE TURN OF THE--'" Pete jumped as Patrick's toes wriggled into his lap and pressed against his crotch. He stared at Patrick, who blinked innocently over his cup as he took a tiny sip of his juice.

Patrick's mother looked at Pete curiously. "Pete? Everything alright?"

"Fine, just. I totally... totally forgot what I was saying." Pete sounded completely breathless, his cock growing hard under Patrick's kneading toes. "I... I just..."

Patricia frowned. Patrick's brother frowned. Patrick's smile was radiant.

"He's been under a lot of stress," Patrick said in a concerned voice as he composed himself, stirring some gravy into his mashed potatoes even as his toes worked Pete to a fever-pitch. "I mean, with the band, and college, and helping me with homework, it can get to be a lot of load. Right, Pete?"

"Exactly," Pete agreed weakly, clutching his dinner-knife so tightly that his knuckles were pale. Patricia appeared alarmed as a red flush began to work its way up Pete's neck.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Patrick's mother said, reaching out to pat Pete on the arm. "Would you like some more water?"

"Yes... please." Pete reached out a hand that had a slight tremble to it , wrapping it around the glass of water Patrick's mother just poured out for him. He brought it to his lips and caught Patrick's eyes, which were large and full of wicked promises. Patrick watched him keenly as he took a few long sips, his toes backing off a bit; as soon as Pete set the glass down, he started rubbing hard again, pressing the whole flat of his foot against the hard line of Pete's dick in his tight jeans. He felt it pulse against the arch of his foot, and he grinned as he swallowed a mouthful of peas, before sliding his foot a little way down to get his toes back into the action.

Pete tried to rally under the onslaught. "Better," he gasped as he took his fork back in hand. "That helped a lot. I think I'll eat some more... and in a few minutes, I'll be totally fine. Just... totally fine."

"Or a few seconds, even," Patrick murmured, and made a final, decisive stroke. His brother and mother were busy staring at Pete, and Patrick took another helping of mashed potatoes, digging in heartily.

" _God_ ," Pete groaned and shuddered. Patrick hummed lightly and pulled his foot back down, putting on his sneaker even as Pete clutched the edge of the table and gasped over his plate. Pete chanced a look at the bemused expression on Patrick's mother's face and cast about for an excuse, any excuse. "This chicken... is _so. Good_."

"I put paprika in the coating," she replied in a mixture of confusion and delight. "Even Patrick likes it, he says he's going to stop eating chicken and stick to fish, but this is the only way I can get him to eat chicken."

"So very good," Pete whispered to his plate.

"Can we go to my room now?" Patrick asked brightly. "I've, uh, got a whole pile of Human Bio. You know I much I _hate_ Human Bio--"

"You'd prefer doing marine bio, we get it," his brother muttered and elbowed him in the side. Patrick rolled his eyes and elbowed back, just for good measure. Pete was still looking down at his chicken as if it held the secrets of the world.

"Sure, you can be excused. Their dad--"

"Step-dad," both Patrick and his brother said instantly; their mother rolled her eyes.

"...their _step-dad_ will be home a little late, so we can start clearing up. Whose night it is to do the dishes?"

"Kevin's," Patrick said quickly, pointing to his brother as he got up with his plate and collected his mother's plate, motioning for Pete to pass his over, which he did. Very slowly. "Pete and I did the dishes last night, so it's your turn."

"Ugh," was Kevin's response and Patrick grabbed his dish and dashed off with the entire pile to the kitchen, scraping them out into the garbage disposal. He made another trip for the glasses, and grabbed Pete under the armpit as he went back to the dining room for the third time, hauling him out and up the stairs to the bedrooms.

"Wait!" his mother yelled and Patrick froze on the steps, with his armful of limp Pete, wondering if she had figured something out. Because if she did, Pete was completely fucked and he was completely fucked, and they would never see each other again. "Pete?"

"Yeah?" Pete said, rousing himself with some effort, turning on one of his super-grins, which he focused on Patrick's mother. "Oh, wow. Where are my manners? Dinner was awesome, thank you."

"Oh!" She flapped her hands at him, her elfin face beaming. "No, that's... you're welcome, anyway! But that's not it. I just want to thank _you_."

Pete straightened up out of Patrick's clutches. "Thank me?"

"Yes. I wasn't too sure about the whole band thing, but Patrick wanted to be a part of it so bad, and when you promised to help him out in school, so that he wouldn't flunk even if he was all over the place with you guys, I really felt a whole lot better about the whole thing, you know?"

"Oh."

"I'm just _so_ glad that Patrick has such a good friend and role-model like you."

"I totally agree," Patrick put in fervently, and dragged Pete away. "Later, Mom!"

As soon as they reached Patrick's small room, Patrick literally flung Pete towards the bed out of sheer exuberance, locked the door, and pounced.

"Wait, wait!" Pete groaned as they rolled around on top of the covers, slapping at Patrick's hands as they pulled at his hoodie. "Jesus. You're going to get me put in prison, you know that? You want me to go to prison?"

"It's a bit too late to consider the consequences," Patrick murmured, sliding down to his knees on the ground between Pete's legs. "I don't think you have any idea of what you unleashed when you seduced me."

"That's the thing, that's what everyone is going to think," Pete whispered feverishly as Patrick's fingers worked at the zip of his jeans. He flopped onto his back, giving up completely as Patrick pulled his jeans off, along with his briefs. Granted, he hadn't been putting up a lot of fight, but Patrick was kind of a terror. Better to give in as soon as possible. "People are going to look in your face and say, 'Pete Wentz is a total pedo, he's been fucking that kid.' And then, they're going to throw me into prison. And the other prisoners are going to take care of my business."

Patrick's laugh was merry as he fumbled around the ground for something; Pete raised himself to his elbows, looking down at Patrick's fair head; he was busy uncapping a small tube and squeezing lube onto his fingers. He reached in-between Pete's legs, eyes sparking as Pete groaned and pulled his knees up.

"Of _course_ you're a pedo," Patrick whispered as he worked his fingers inside Pete. "And the worst thing is, you have no self-control. If you did, you would have told me _no_ when I offered to suck you off in that bathroom, the one in the gas-station, remember? It was kinda clean, too. But if you said _no_ then, you wouldn't be in this position now."

"Oh, so I'm to blame, because I'm older," Pete griped. He suddenly felt a little curl of dark fear. It was completely irrational, to feel this emotion, because Patrick was still only a teen, and therefore not capable of any mind-games, right? Right. Without thinking about what he was doing, he turned over on his stomach, taking his shirt off and going on his hands and knees.

"You're to blame, 'cause you're older," Patrick confirmed, and the rustling behind Pete preceded the blunt head of his cock pressing against Pete's prepared hole. He made slow, controlled movements with his hips, back and forth a little more each time, listening to Pete's breathing until he was fully sheathed. At least he had put on a condom, Pete had taught him well. "You've made me want things I shouldn't want, you know?"

"Fuck," Pete moaned as quietly as he could, hoping Kevin hadn't come up from the kitchen yet to go to his room right next door; he closed his eyes and rested his head on his folded arms. Patrick managed to stroke against that perfectly mind-bending spot inside of him a couple of times, but it was more than enough to get his cock interested again; he grabbed onto it as one of Patrick's arms snaked around him and tweaked a nipple without pity. Pete arched his back, taking more of that slick cock inside of him. "You just... _fuck_."

"And if... you decide... to stop," Patrick said with each thrust, each more savage than the last. "It might... upset me enough... to _tell_ , you know? And who... would they believe, Pete?" Another thrust, a twist of the hips. Pete grabbed a pillow and cried out into it. "Who, Pete? Who?"

" _You_ , you little shit," Pete said into the pillow as Patrick's hipbones ground against his ass. He gasped as Patrick pulled out of him, rolled him over onto his back and settled between his legs; he gazed up at Pete's sweaty, shocked face as he made kittenish licks to Pete's flushed cock, murmuring wordlessly, shuffling down further to mouth at Pete's balls. Pete tried to flinch away, but Patrick held him firm, those big eyes fixed on his the whole while as Pete felt his whole body start to ripple again, his ass clenching almost painfully as he came weakly on his own stomach.

"I created a fucking monster," Pete managed after a few moments of heavy breathing. Patrick smirked, lying down beside him and snuggling close, still dressed in his large t-shirt. Patrick trailed his hand through the dampness on Pete's stomach.

"I'm so glad you know," he said with a slow, burning smile and Pete closed his eyes. He didn't even recoil when Patrick licked at his ear and whispered: "And don't you forget."

 _fin_


End file.
